


Still Into You

by Rike



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Anger, Angst, Derek is Derek, Dry Orgasm, Dry Sex, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, a bit of, also, because fluff is my thing, i guess, kind of, sterek, stiles is relatable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rike/pseuds/Rike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has trouble sleeping and in an attempt to resolve this problem goes to Stiles to try out an idea, which turns Stiles' love-life around. But Derek's as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Into You

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know anymore, man. I had an idea, I wrote it down in the middle of the night and it turned out kinda crappy. Anyway, here have some Sterek for your feels.   
> (Comment for critic or praise, lovelies)

Derek sighed into his hands, rubbed them over his face and raised his head to look at the apartment building in front of him.

He had to do this, there was no other option. At least none that would make sense. And since when was Derek Hale a coward anyway? Screw this, he thought and got out of his car, slamming the door and marching into the building.

He knocked on the door one, two, three times and lowered his head whilst tapping his foot. A bad habit. Not really the tapping, but more the impatience that it resulted out of.

With a pissed “who the fuck is even awake at 3am” Stiles opened the door, looking shocked for a second as he recognized Derek but got himself together quickly.

“Derek” he said. “What the hell?”

“Hey, uh, I need to crash at your place for tonight. If that’s okay?”

Stiles looked confused.

“What? Why here? It’s not like yo-“ but Stiles couldn’t even end his sentence before Derek showed what he hoped was his most pissed and threatening look. The deep dark circles under his eyes probably only helped it working better.

Stiles gave up and took a step back. “Uh, yeah, sure. Come in.”

Derek entered with a mumbled “thank you” and immediately took off his jacket, throwing it on the love seat near the sofa. He took off his shoes and sat down on the sofa, all the while being stared at by Stiles.

The situation could be described as awkward, at best. Derek knew what he did right now was asshole-ish and selfish but he tried to keep it casual and cool, as if this was an everyday thing for him. Stiles obviously had trouble even realizing that Derek was sitting on his sofa at three in the morning. Granted, he most likely had come straight out of bed, he definitely looked like it – all hair standing up at every angle, sleepy brown deer eyes, a way too big shirt that fell off the one side of his shoulder, exposing pale skin and, oh god, low riding boxer shorts.

Derek cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to catch a thought other than “oh my god, I’m gonna jump him”.

“Well” Stiles said, breaking the silence. “I’ll get some blankets.” And with that he thankfully took off whilst Derek started undressing himself.

With only his briefs and his shirt left on his body he lay down, Stiles came to bring him his blankets, said a quick goodnight and left off to bed.

Well, here Derek was now, in Stiles’ apartment, on Stiles’ couch, trying to get the sleep he couldn’t get in his own bed. And when he actually did sleep, he was plagued by dreams that made him force himself to wake up. It was exhausting. He needed some rest. And going to the very reason why his nights where so uneasy seemed like the best idea to solve this problem.

Seems like he forgot calculating the possibility that Stiles had trouble sleeping, too. That and his werewolf hearing and Derek still lay awake an hour later, trying to just ignore the rustling of sheets in the next room but it didn’t help. Derek groaned. He couldn’t believe this was his life.

Okay, so maybe there was a way to put Stiles to sleep and maybe get sleep for some hours himself, which the werewolf was desperate enough to actually consider. He was trying to tell himself this was such a bad idea. So, _so_ bad. But what if it was the only solution, or better – what if it was working?

With a grunt Derek got up and made his way to Stiles bedroom, entering without knocking or saying a word. Stiles seemed puzzled, rightly so, because what the hell was Derek even doing? Well, getting in Stiles’ bed, that was what.

“Uhm” Stiles muttered as Derek started spooning him, putting an arm around his waist.

“You wouldn’t stop rustling in the sheets and I couldn’t sleep, so shut up and close your eyes.”

Smooth one, Hale.

But Stiles just wouldn’t fucking sleep. His heart was hammering in his chest, Derek could feel it even in his bones, and the smell he sent out was more than just intoxicating and it was driving Derek freaking crazy! Enough was enough, he decided and took action.

He snuggled himself closer to Stiles, sneaking his hand under the hem of Stiles shirt and simultaneously starting to plant soft kisses behind Stiles’ ear, Derek felt the man under him stiffening.

Sometimes Derek had to remind himself that Stiles wasn’t a boy anymore, that he was old enough for all of this, that he wasn’t living in the Stilinski household anymore. He was all grown up (physically, at least) and even the legal boundaries were gone now.

A whispered “Derek” ghosted through the room, before Stiles turned just enough to see the look in Derek’s eyes, underlining what Derek was trying to say with his actions.

Stiles tried to think this through, what they were about to do and what would change for them if they really did it. But the sheer _need_ running through his veins overwhelmed him before he could stop himself, making him inch even closer to Derek and finally pressing his lips against Derek’s.

It was just a simple kiss, but loaded with so much electricity, Stiles couldn’t help turning around fully to put his hand to Derek’s jaw in a soft touch, stroking his thumb over a stubbled cheek, whilst at the same time asking for entrance with his tongue at Derek’s lips.

From that point on it began to turn into a heated make-out session, where somewhere in between tongue meeting tongue and silent pants and moans, they started frantically rutting against each other. In the heat there was no time to shed clothes, only the sensation of feeling each other, without any strength to let go of the other. For now, after all this time, it was enough to simply feel each other, taste one another.

Stiles was the first to come, a high, long moan escaping his lips, shuddering into his climax and breathing Derek’s name. Hearing his name from these wonderfully plump and swollen lips in a _moan,_ Derek immediately came, too, with a growl, tightening the grip he had on Stiles’ hands.

For minutes they stayed like this – Stiles lying halfway on top of Derek, his head resting on the werewolf’s chest, both trying to catch their breaths, but after a while the cleaning became more important, so Stiles fled into the bathroom for a quick clean-off, re-thinking what just had happened. He had to say, he was pretty damn satisfied with the outcome of this. He just really deeply hoped this wouldn’t be the end of…everything between them. With a last look in the mirror Stiles sighed and walked back to the bedroom, where Derek lay with his arm behind his head, looking more relaxed than ever.

Stiles pulled out a pair of oversized sweatpants from his closet and sent a doubting look toward Derek.

“I don’t think any of these shirts will fit you, I’m sorry.”

Derek smiled lazily.

“Doesn’t matter. Just come here.”

Stiles couldn’t help but lift one eyebrow at Derek, but complied anyway, throwing the sweatpants in Derek’s direction and lying down on his side of the bed.

Derek waited until he had changed his boxer briefs to the sweatpants to look at Stiles directly, one dark eyebrow raised. With a smile Stiles placed his head on Derek’s now bare chest, throwing an arm around his stomach and placing a soft kiss on Derek’s collarbone. With some hesitation Derek put his hand to Stiles’ head as well, caressing the soft hair and, after some time, even grabbing the hand Stiles had put to his hip to entwine their fingers.

They whispered their goodnights and almost immediately fell asleep.

.

On the next morning Stiles woke up to an empty bed and a hole in his heart. Derek had left. Which could’ve been expected right from the start but there had still been the slightest hope in Stiles that Derek, just for freaking once, would stay.

But he didn’t. He had left without a word, a note or text.

Despite what his head was telling him, he still waited for Derek to do _something_. And soon waiting a day for a life sign turned into two- and then three days, a week passed, but there was still nothing.

Derek couldn’t be found anywhere, which only meant he didn’t want to be found. Everyone was looking for him now, mostly because he didn’t let anyone know what was up, but also because Stiles practically forced Scott to do it, because he got physically sick thinking about Derek lying somewhere in the dirt, cut in half.

After two weeks worry turned into anger and every hope of Derek coming to him to apologize or just _explain_ what was going on grew thinner and thinner.

And then, after 19 days (not that Stiles was counting), in the middle of the night, Derek fucking Hale flew in through his window, standing there like he owned the world, looking good as ever and that was it for Stiles, that was the final straw. Without any warning he marched towards Derek, crashing against him like an angry bull, pushing him hard.

“You stupid fucking asshole, who the hell do you think you are, huh? Just because you’re Derek freaking Hale doesn’t mean you have any right to fucking pull that leaving shit on me! If that night meant nothing to you, then you could’ve just said so, you prick, but no, you disappear for almost three freaking weeks, where no one hears a shitty word from you! And don’t fucking tell me you needed time to think about what happened because I don’t buy any freaking word you’re saying! Do you know how fucking worried I was, you goddamn prick? You know what? I don’t need this shit. Just fuck off to Timbuktu of wherever the fuck you came from, anyway.”

With a huff Stiles turned and sat down on his bed, stubbornly staring at his bedroom wall.

“I’m sorry.”

Stiles head snapped into Derek’s direction. Did he hear that right or was he just hallucinating? Derek Hale apologizing? But …nope, that couldn’t be right, he must’ve heard wrong.

“Come again?”

Derek sighed and slowly walked towards the bed, sitting down at the edge, relatively close to Stiles.

“Listen, coming here was a quick idea just to see if I could get some sleep. You might’ve noticed that I was…not very well. Which was, because whenever I was trying to sleep , I saw you…dying. In every single way possible. I just couldn’t stand it, so I thought maybe having you near would convince my brain that you were okay. That worked pretty damn well for that night, but…after waking up I got scared shitless. I ran away. I’m sorry.”

For a moment everything was silent and both of them had time to think about what was just said. But there was something that _needed_ to be said. From Stiles.

“And what does that mean, now?” Stiles asked. “For us, I mean. I get it, you got scared. Alright. But does that mean we’re…something? Because, let me tell you this one thing, Hale, okay, listen up now – If we are, then I’m telling you right here and now, if this is just a fuckbuddy relationship to you, then move your ass out of my apartment, because I’m only up for the real thing, alright? And if you want me, then you gotta be up -“

“Yes.”

Stiles frowned. “What?” A small smile tucked at Derek’s lip.

“I said yes.”

“I got that, you asshat. Yes to what?”

“Yes to I want you.”

Aaaaaaand, even the big Stilinski was made speechless by this answer.

“Wait, are you serious?”

Okay, this sounded dumb, but there was a big chance Derek was just playing with him and Stiles definitely wouldn’t let him. It’s good to be on the safe side, okay?

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Oh, and Stiles certainly did.


End file.
